The Miracle of the Ellington
by Jen Martin
Summary: An area of the North Atlantic is known for its strange weather disturbances and the number of ships that have gone down in its waters. When Seaview is called to investigate, the crew discover far more trouble than any of them bargained for.
1. A Watery Grave

**The Miracle of the **_**Ellington**_

"_Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light." _Helen Keller

_**Chapter 1: A Watery Grave**_

"_I say we throw them out!" The seaman was a burly fellow, his face grimed with smoke and burns. "We're two men over capacity already. There's not enough room in the boat for prisoners, sir!" The sarcasm with which he laced the title wasn't lost on the officer he was addressing._

"_No," the ensign said quietly, not looking up from his unconscious captain's side. He was trying to staunch the blood from a wound that was far beyond his capacity to deal with in any situation, much less in a crowded lifeboat on the open sea. His blistered hands shook, the only indication he wasn't immune to the horrors of the recent battle and their current predicament. "You," he addressed a sailor who looked almost as young as he was, "monitor his pulse and let me know if it changes. I'm afraid we're losing him."_

_The young man nodded, swallowing hard, watching the ensign with frightened eyes._

"_Is the motor working yet?" the ensign asked, his voice harsh with smoke damage from the fire that had engulfed the destroyer Ellington. His expression remained unchanged when the men working on it shook their heads. "Keep rowing, then. If you spot any survivors in the water, haul them in!"_

_One of the prisoners held in the bottom of the boat made an abrupt movement and the burly seaman backhanded him. The three crewmen from the U-boat erupted in a stream of furious German._

"_Shut up!" The seaman slapped another, heedless of the man's wounds._

"_Stop it!" The ensign glared at him, tired eyes blazing. "Does anyone speak German?"_

"_I do," the cook's mate volunteered hesitantly._

"_Bauer, is it? What are they saying?"_

"_They're saying McMann here is an ass," Bauer said._

"_Why, I oughta…" The burly man drew his arm back again._

"_Besides that," the ensign snapped. "Why did that one move?" He pointed to the youngest German _matrosen_, who was watching him with an expression of barely contained fury._

"_He said his father is a doctor. He was willing to help but now he says we can go to hell for all he cares."_

"_And he can feed the damn sharks for all I care!" McMann snarled._

"_Let go of him."_

"_Sir? You're going to let one of them at the captain?"_

"_Unless you have a better idea, yes." He turned to Bauer. "Tell him I'd appreciate any help he can give the wounded."_

_Bauer translated while the ensign studied the face of the prisoner lying at his feet. Their eyes met, light and dark, as they sized each other up. After a moment, the German grunted and pulled his arms free from the restraining hands. He crawled to the wounded officer's side and set to work, ignoring the Americans surrounding him._

"Danke_," the ensign murmured. He turned to McMann. "A word with you." He motioned the seaman aside. "I respect your loyalty to Captain Harris. You've served with him a long time, but until he regains consciousness I'm in command." The steely gaze he fixed on McMann belied his youth. "I don't care if you're ten years older than I am and have served ten years longer. If you continue to argue with me in front of the men, I'll have you out of service so fast your head will spin!"_

"_Your rich daddy will see to it, I guess."_

_The ensign's eyes narrowed. "You don't have to like me, McMann. All that matters is that you follow orders. There's a good chance none of us are going to get out of this." Unconsciously, he cradled his wounded hands close to his body, wrapping his arms across his chest._

"_Permission to speak freely, sir?" The ensign nodded curtly. "It's like this: you're as green as they come. Maybe you've got a name to live up to and it's eating up your insides or maybe you've got more pride than common sense—I don't know. All I know is that I don't want to die because of rookie mistakes."_

"_You won't," the ensign said dismissively, his gaze straying to the German who was absorbed with treating their stricken captain._

_McMann restrained the overpowering urge to shake the arrogant boy, burned or not, officer or not. "The boat is overloaded, we've got three prisoners taking up space, and you're still trying to pick up survivors!"_

"_We'll pick up anyone we find alive. We'll take turns in the water if we have to."_

"_Take turns in the water?" McMann stared at him incredulously. "With the sharks?"_

"_You have a pistol, don't you?"_

"_You're… that's crazy, sir!"_

"_No." The ensign looked up at the taller man wearily. In the gray light before dawn the crewman could see every terrible moment of the previous night etched on his face. "It's a desperate measure in a desperate situation, not one I'd pick if I were given a choice. What's the alternative? Do you expect me to row past men in the water if they're still alive?"_

"_Sir," the crewman said, this time without irony, "you've got to toughen up or you'll never make it home." He felt a pang of pity at the bald anguish in the ensign's eyes. He'd seen that look, that loss of innocence, so many times since the war began. Usually the ones who wore that expression died, victims of their hopeless idealism. Doubtless the ensign would, too, taking most of them with him. He sighed. "Alright, sir. I won't say any more, but I think before this is over you'll regret being so stubborn."_

X X X

"Why the long face, Angie?" Lee Crane asked as he breezed into her office at the Nelson Institute for Marine Research.

"I have to pick up Dr. Schaffner at the airport in an hour."

"What's the problem? I thought you liked him." Crane perched on the edge of her desk, studying her closely. There were dark smudges under her eyes and her smile, when she glanced up at him, was forced.

"I do. He's a sweet man. The last time he visited he brought me a beautiful box of chocolates from Cologne."

"That was over six months ago," Crane mused. "That's a long time for the admiral and Schaffner to go without seeing each other. Harry should be pleased."

"I thought he would be." Angie clicked the end of her ballpoint pen nervously.

"He's not? What's going on?" Crane glanced at the closed door of Nelson's office. "Is he in?"

"No." Angie shifted, then looked up at Crane with a determined expression. "Ride with me and I'll tell you on the way to the airport. I've been debating whether I should say anything or not, but I have to. You have a right to know anything that might endanger _Seaview_!"

They didn't speak again until they were on the open road. Angie sped along, driving faster than usual, her eyes locked in front of her. "I hate it that I'm talking to you about this," she said. "I feel like I'm betraying the admiral, like I've been spying on him, prying…"

"I need to know if something's wrong," Lee said quietly. "I owe the crew that much, and if Harry needs help… well, he shouldn't have to ask."

"You're right," she said. "Of course, you're right." She drew a deep breath. "I don't think he's been sleeping well. The light's on in his office at all hours." Angie glanced at Lee. "There's a doctor he's been seeing…"

"He's ill?" Crane's stomach churned.

"No. No, I don't think so. It's a psychiatrist in private practice, not linked to the Navy in any way. The admiral never told me who he was. I looked him up myself after the third visit."

"Harry's going to a psychiatrist?" Lee shook his head. "I can't imagine him doing that voluntarily."

"I know," Angie said bleakly. "It doesn't seem like him at all. He's out of sorts— distracted, short-tempered. It's as if," she cocked her head, thinking hard, "some decision is weighing on him."

Lee frowned. "Do you think he's fit for the mission?"

Angie hesitated. "I don't know. I was hoping having Dr. Schaffner along would cheer him up, but when I reminded the admiral this morning that he was arriving, he didn't seem happy about it at all. He left without saying a word and never came back. That was hours ago."

"Have they had an argument, some professional disagreement?"

"No, I don't think so. Kurt was fine when I spoke with him yesterday. He told me he's found two wonderful new wines to bring to the admiral for his opinion."

"I'll have to ask Harry what's going on," Lee said.

"No! No, please don't. He'll be furious with me." Angie spared him a pleading glance. "Just keep an eye on him. Maybe he'll be better once he's back on _Seaview_ and you're at sea."

X X X

Lee stood beside the admiral and Dr. Schaffner at the plotting table in the control room, watching them confer. Their heads were bent close to each other, light and dark, as Schaffner read off coordinates and Nelson added them to the charts. They worked with the same amicable professionalism that always marked their research together, and Crane was having a hard time reconciling Angie's concerns with the evidence of his own eyes.

The admiral looked tired, but was entirely gracious and in control of their mission to examine a region of the North Atlantic where four ships had gone down in half as many months. Suspecting poor weather conditions or a seismic anomaly, the Navy had sent _Seaview_ to investigate. Since Dr. Schaffner had been compiling data on the area for several years, the West German government had loaned him to _Seaview_ for the mission.

Nelson looked up at Crane. "We should reach the coordinates where the last ship sank at 10:00. Kurt and I will take the FS-1 out and examine the wreckage."

"Be careful. Remember, the flying sub is much more vulnerable than _Seaview_ to turbulence and changes in the currents. Come back right away if the situation starts to deteriorate. You'll be hard to retrieve at this depth if you lose power."

"The weather in this part of the ocean can be very strange, that's certain," Schaffner said. "Once when I was here many years ago, a storm blew up so quickly we didn't even see it coming. The sea churned for a few moments like—how do you say it?—an eggbeater was in the water."

"You didn't sink, though?"

"No," Schaffner shook his head, "but a man drowned. I was sorry for that."

"Maybe whatever weather anomaly plagues these waters restricts itself to the surface layers," Crane said. "We may not feel a thing even if the water above is unstable."

"Perhaps," Nelson said, sounding unconvinced. He clapped Lee and Schaffner on the shoulders with what seemed to Crane like forced cheer. "Let's have a cup of coffee before we go, shall we? I feel the need for a little fortification."

X X X

"_Dammit, why haven't we been picked up yet?" McMann demanded. It was mid-morning and the summer sun had been up for hours. "How many planes have flown over? They must have radioed our position. What the hell are they waiting for?"_

"_Maybe there's a U-boat in the area," the ensign said quietly._

"_Hey, you!" McMann grabbed the German who had patched up the captain, digging his fingers into the man's arms. "Bauer, ask him!"_

_The_ matrosen's_ answer was clear even to those who didn't speak German. McMann drew his fist back and pounded it into his prisoner's face. The ensign watched, a muscle jumping in his jaw, as the German slumped in the bottom of the boat._

"_Ask him again," McMann said._

_The German's eyes flashed in fear and anger between McMann and the ensign. Then he gave the same answer. McMann went after him, but the ensign touched his arm lightly. "That's enough," he said. "It doesn't matter. We sank his U-boat and know it went to the bottom. Even if there's another nearby, what can we do about it?"_

"_Sir!" One of the crewmen gave a cry. "Two bodies to starboard!"_

_They rowed close enough to see one of the men in the water struggling to swim towards them. "Get in nearer," the ensign ordered. "Throw him a line." He ignored McMann shaking his head at the thought of adding yet another person to the crowded boat as he watched the man flailing desperately. The men in the boat cheered the survivor on and the ensign leaned further and further over the side, reaching for his hands._

_They were caught unprepared when the sea suddenly rose beneath them, lifting the lifeboat high into the air, then dropping it precipitously. McMann's voice boomed out over the cries of fear and pain. "Man overboard!"_

_The ensign had been thrown well clear of the boat and now was fighting his way back. The wind picked up quickly, beating the tops of the waves into foam. Despite the ferocity of the sudden squall, McMann thought the ensign stood a good chance of making it until he saw him grab the life jacket of the sailor they'd been trying to rescue. McMann groaned, wishing the young officer had even one drop of good sense and knew when to give up._

_The ensign pulled the unconscious sailor through the water, seemingly oblivious to the pain of his damaged hands. Several times he went under, but each time was buoyed up by his life jacket. When he got close enough, he pushed the still body towards the lifeboat. "Take him!" They could barely hear the exhausted order as they grasped the sailor and hauled him aboard._

"_Sir, here's my hand!" McMann leaned out, reaching for the ensign. "You can do it! You're one hell of a swimmer!" He thought he saw a faint smile break across the young man's tired face, but then a massive wave hit, drenching them all. When McMann shook the water from his eyes, the ensign was nowhere to be seen. The sea had swallowed him completely. "Damn," McMann swore, feeling water fill his eyes again. "Damn crazy boy!"_

X X X

"We're encountering some turbulence." Nelson's voice over the radio was calm and matter-of-fact.

"I hear you, FS-1," Crane replied. "We feel it, too. Suggest you come back." The _Seaview_ rocked, then righted itself.

"Will do." Nelson's voice crackled. The flying sub shook as a stronger disturbance flipped it almost ninety degrees. "We've got a short," Nelson said, "I'm giving the controls to Kurt while I make repairs."

"You need to get back here!" Lee's held onto the radio tightly as the deck rolled beneath his feet. "Can you make it?"

There were several moments of silence, then Lee heard Dr. Schaffner's panicked voice. "_Seaview_! Captain Crane!"

"We read you. What is it?"

"Harry's gone!"

"Please repeat. I didn't understand you."

"When I looked over at the circuit board to see how Harry was doing, no one was there!"

"Did he fall? Is there a breach in the hull?" Lee gripped the radio so tightly his fingers ached.

"_Nein, nein_." Schaffner said, slipping out of English in his distress.

"Skipper!" Kowalski's voice broke in. "Sonar's showing a body on the surface!"

Crane blanched. "If he came up from that depth…"

"It's not possible, I tell you," Schaffner said. "The flying sub isn't taking on water. I'd know if it were!"

"Can you get to the surface?"

"_Ja_, I'm on my way."

"Chip," Crane said, "we need to surface."

"What about the turbulence?"

"It's better now. We'll risk it."

When _Seaview_ reached the surface, the ocean was as smooth and still as a sheet of ice. Crane emerged onto the sail in time to see Schaffner standing on the FS-1, dragging a body out of the water. Lee released a heavy breath when he saw it wasn't the admiral. The man was young, dressed in a WWII-era naval uniform and a flame-scorched life vest. Schaffner laid him out on his back and examined him closely. "I don't believe this!" His face was pale as he looked up at Crane. "Captain, you must come here!"

"Is he alive? Why in the world is he dressed like that?" Frowning, Lee climbed down to the deck of the _Seaview_ and jumped to the FS-1, catching Schaffner's outstretched hand as he leaped across.

"Captain," Schaffner's voice was shaking, "I know this man!"

He glanced at the captain and was surprised to see Crane's face frozen in a mask of horrified disbelief. "I know him, too!" Lee's hand shot out, grabbing the identification tags around the young man's neck. He read in a shaky voice, "Nelson, Harriman." His eyes flicked over the service number, blood type, and religious affiliation, and he fell to his knees beside the still body. "This is impossible," he whispered, but he knew the unconscious man's features well, painfully young as they were. Then the blue eyes slitted open and any lingering doubts were dispelled. Lee released the tags and laid a gentle hand on the stricken man's shoulder. "Rest easy, ensign," he said, trying to find his voice. "You're among friends."

Nelson only shook his head weakly. "No, you're lying." His gaze rested on Schaffner. "German. I heard him speaking."

Schaffner looked at Crane hopelessly. "I'm sorry… I didn't think…"

"Stop—don't say anything else," Lee said. "We have to think this through." He watched in dismay as Nelson took in his first view of _Seaview_. Beyond the exhaustion, his eyes radiated fear and wonder. "Get a blindfold on him," Crane snapped. "Now!"

He restrained Nelson as gently as possible while Schaffner disappeared into the FS-1. The ensign's body was shaking, whether from exhaustion, cold, pain, or fear, Lee couldn't say. His mind was reeling and his heart aching. He couldn't even begin to understand what was happening, but at least the admiral was alive, even if this young man wasn't the admiral he knew.

He felt a pang of sympathy as Schaffner came back up with a cloth and bound Nelson's eyes. He hated to imagine what his friend was thinking, what terrors he had recently endured and what fears and suspicions were gripping him now. Most of all, Lee hated his own inability to comfort him. Still, he couldn't stop himself from trying. "Ensign," he said quietly, "I swear you will not be harmed. We're taking you aboard our vessel to treat your wounds. We are friends and will care for you with respect. Do you believe me?"

A muscle jumped in Nelson's throat, but he made no reply. He turned his face away and Lee understood as well as if he'd answered. Sighing dejectedly, he allowed Schaffner to tie Harry's wrists together, then he lifted him easily and carried him across the deck towards _Seaview_ and what should have been home.


	2. A Fish Out of Water

**The Miracle of the **_**Ellington**_

"_Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light." _Helen Keller

_**Chapter 2: A Fish Out of Water**_

Nelson briefly considered fighting for his freedom before recognizing the uselessness of such an attempt. The German had tied his hands snugly, although not cruelly, but that was the least part of his captivity. He was alone with these strange men on the open sea, with nowhere to escape to and no idea what had happened to the lifeboat. He certainly would have known if McMann were also a prisoner. He wouldn't be the docile captive Nelson was proving to be.

He knew it was his duty to resist but his body was betraying him, racked by a shameful trembling he couldn't control. He'd hoped he'd be strong if he ever fell into enemy hands and be the man his father required him to be. He'd always been able to bend his body to his will, but for the first time in his young life he'd simply had enough.

The man who carried him—the one the German had called "captain" when they thought he was unconscious—was more considerate than he'd expected. So far at least, the man was treating him better than the survivors of the _Ellington_ had treated the three German prisoners in the lifeboat. Still, Nelson reminded himself not to be tricked by overtures of friendship or caught by surprise if the man's attitude changed abruptly.

Nelson's exhausted, restless mind doggedly pursued an answer to the question that plagued him: Who were these people? They could be Germans and the massive submarine he'd glimpsed a frightening, new U-boat design. The blindfold and his bound wrists supported that theory and, if that was the case, it was imperative he escape with any intelligence he could gather. On the other hand, the captain _did_ sound like an American. There was always the possibility the submarine was a secret Allied weapon and the German he'd seen was a defector, one of many scientists who'd fled the Third Reich. Nelson placed the odds at 50/50 either way, but without knowing for sure, it was necessary to proceed assuming the worst. The captain could be a German who spoke excellent English or an American traitor. That would explain why his uniform wasn't quite correct: it was a reasonable copy, but the devil was in the details and Nelson spotted several that weren't exactly right.

He flinched as other hands grasped him, lifting him up into the conning tower, then passing him down into the submarine. "Here, I'll take him again," he heard the captain say quietly. "You two," he addressed men Nelson couldn't see, "come with me."

"What's going on, Skipper? Why'd you tie up the kid? Any sign yet of the admiral?"

Nelson wondered at the casual mode of address and even more at the captain's sudden, angry reply. It appeared the man had another side. "Be quiet!" he snapped. "I don't want to hear any more from you until you've been briefed. You're not to address me, or each other, by name. You're not to speak to this officer. The less you say, the better. Got it?"

"Aye, sir," the men replied in perplexed tones, falling in behind the captain.

Nelson counted the captain's paces and kept track of the turns he made through the passageways—useful knowledge in case he had the opportunity to break free. After a few moments they entered an area with brighter lights and he heard a startled exclamation, "Lee! What in the world?"

The arms around him tightened, a physical manifestation of the captain's frustration. "No names," he growled. "Doc, I need to talk with you and," he must have looked at the other men, "you also." The captain lowered Nelson onto a table and efficiently strapped him down before he could even try to resist.

"Have you lost your mind?" the doctor asked. Nelson drew some comfort from the horrified question. He'd learned two valuable things already: Whoever these men were, they weren't afraid of their captain and they weren't used to seeing helpless prisoners being manhandled. He tried to relax while they conferred in hushed tones, reassured to hear the humanity in the low voices around him.

X X X

Crane quickly explained the situation to Jamie, Ski, and Patterson, who stared at him with wide, incredulous eyes. "What are you going to do, Skipper?" Patterson asked.

"I don't know." Lee ran a hand over his eyes. "I need more time to consider options."

"Well," said Jamie, "whatever you decide, my duty's clear: the first thing is to take care of him as I would any man dragged out of the sea and dropped on my doorstep."

"You should leave the blindfold on, sir," Kowalski said thoughtfully. "If there's a way to send him back to his time, it might be trouble if he's seen us."

Crane looked uncomfortable. "I know, but the only way to keep the blindfold on is to also keep him tied or he'll just remove it himself. Look at him! He's soaking wet, scared, wounded, and who knows what else. I can't keep him restrained indefinitely." His face fell into grim, determined lines. "Doc's right. Whether or not the future's compromised by his presence here, there's no excuse for us to behave like barbarians."

He ordered Pat and Ski to take up positions on either side of the door then approached Nelson again, relieved to see the young man was finally calming down and resting quietly. He flinched when Crane touched him, but gave no other sign of distress. Carefully, Lee removed the blindfold from his eyes. As Harry blinked rapidly, eyes adjusting to the brightness of sickbay, Lee was stuck again by Nelson's youth. He'd only seen a couple of photos of the admiral from his war years.

"Better?" he asked, trying to smile and failing miserably.

Harry nodded guardedly and met his gaze squarely, his chin raised slightly in challenge. Lee recognized the familiar, assessing expression. The young man was staking out his ground, refusing to let Crane intimidate him. Lee relaxed, relieved to know this stranger really _was_ Harry, their Harry, and he wasn't as damaged in body or spirit as it had first appeared.

"Let's get this off, too," he said, setting to work on Nelson's bound wrists.

"The burns extend up his arm," Jamie said reproachfully. "You should have checked before you tied him." He gently examined Nelson's hands. "These are mostly first-degree," he said, "although there are some second-degree burns on your palms, where the skin is blistered. How did this happen?"

Nelson raised an eyebrow, but didn't reply.

"No questions," Crane murmured. "He's not authorized to give any information beyond name, rank, and serial number."

They all turned towards the door as Chip burst in. "I heard…"

"Stop!" Crane's tone was commanding. "Think carefully."

"Yes." Morton's eyes were glued to Nelson's face. "Yes, of course. I see."

Watching the tall, blond man stare at him in wonder, Harry was starting to feel that they all understood something he didn't. There seemed to be so many Americans on the submarine, he was starting to reassess his earlier theory about his captors. In spite of the presence of the German, it seemed he'd stumbled upon a secret Allied weapon after all.

"We should get him out of those wet clothes," Jamie said.

Lee didn't miss the nervous flicker in Nelson's eyes. "It can wait. Give him two or three blankets to wrap up in until he feels strong enough to change by himself." He began unbuckling the restraints. "Ensign," he said with what Nelson thought was an odd inflection, "it's necessary to confine you to sickbay at the present time. Please don't attempt to leave, or these men," he gestured to Ski and Pat, "will have to prevent you." He laid a gentle hand on Nelson's shoulder. "Don't worry. As I've said before, you're in no danger. Just rest."

"You must be very thirsty," Jamie said, holding a glass of water out to him. "Please drink this."

Nelson looked at the glass suspiciously and made no move to accept it.

"Drink it," Crane commanded gruffly. "If we wanted to drug you, we could have done so at any time." He waited until Harry took a small sip, then turned and left, desperately needing time to think and a respite from the accusing gaze that pierced his heart and shook his resolve to stand firm.

When the door of the cabin shut behind him, Lee slumped against the side of the passageway, head tilted back and eyes closed. "Captain?" Schaffner's query was low and urgent.

"Have you been waiting out here?" Crane asked wearily.

"I didn't think Harry would appreciate my presence."

"Probably not."

"Captain, I must speak with you. It's very important." Schaffner's dark eyes were troubled.

"What is it?"

"I have to tell you: I didn't know it was Harry when I pulled that young man out of the water."

Crane frowned. "I thought you said you recognized him."

"So I did. More than thirty years have passed, but I have never forgotten that American ensign's face."

Lee looked at him sharply. "I'm not following you."

"Do you remember when I said I had experienced the anomaly in these waters before and a man drowned?" Crane nodded cautiously. "I don't speak of it often, but I served in the _Kriegsmarine _during the war. In July 1944, your destroyer _Ellington_ engaged the U-boat I served on in this very place. Our torpedoes struck the _Ellington_, but not before she had time to drop depth charges." He shrugged. "It was the worst day of my life, captain. Very few of us survived. My boat went to the bottom and the _Ellington_ was an inferno. I felt sure I would die in the water, but the American ensign—Harry—took me and a handful of others into a lifeboat. The men from the _Ellington_ were very angry. I think they would have thrown us to the sharks if Harry hadn't forbidden it."

"This is incredible," Crane whispered.

"Yes," Schaffner agreed. "I'm a man of science, captain. I don't believe in coincidences. I don't know what to make of this, either, but it troubles me."

"What happened next?" Lee grasped the German's arms urgently. "Tell me everything you remember. No detail is unimportant."

"It was so long ago. For years I've tried not to think of it…"

"I need you to think about it now!"

"Yes." Schaffner closed his eyes, collecting his thoughts. "My father was a doctor. An officer from the Ellington was badly wounded. I thought perhaps if I helped, the Americans would let me live." He smiled wanly. "Not very heroic or altruistic, I admit, but I was so young. I didn't want to die. The ensign let me give first aid, but that wasn't enough to appease them. They wanted to know if there were more U-boats in the area. I didn't know and wouldn't have told them if I did—you understand, captain?"

Lee nodded.

"I thought they would surely kill me then, but Harry—it is so hard to think of him as Harry!—stopped them again. Then we saw two American sailors in the water. I think one was dead, but the other was trying to reach us. As we approached him, the ocean suddenly came alive, churning and bubbling. Harry was thrown overboard. He pulled the sailor to safety but disappeared before they could get him back in the boat. I always assumed he drowned."

"Instead," Crane said quietly, "it appears the anomaly catapulted him more than thirty years into the future."

"It seems so." They were silent for several moments, then Schaffner said, "That was the end of the war for me. I was sent to a prisoner of war camp in Louisiana where I started to learn English. After the war I went home for a while, then returned to the United States to study. When I met Harry in Stockholm ten years ago, it never occurred to me that he was the American ensign who had saved my life. I only knew I liked him right away and wanted to work with him. His ideas were daring, but the science backing them up was always very solid."

"It sounds like he didn't recognize you, either."

"No, I'm sure he didn't, and we never spoke of the war. It would have been awkward, you understand."

"Yes." Lee saw the admiration in Schaffner's eyes and suddenly felt the absence of the admiral sharply, like a stab wound. He would give his life for Ensign Nelson, but it was the admiral he loved. "I have to get him back," he whispered, "but I don't know what to do."

"It's not your fault," Schaffner said sympathetically. "No one does."

"That's not true." Crane's eyes widened at the sudden realization. "That's not quite true. There's one person who may know exactly what to do!" He set off down the passageway at a brisk pace.

"Captain," Schaffner called, "where are you going?"

"To Harry's cabin! If there's any place I can find answers to my questions, it's there!"


	3. Voices from the Past

**The Miracle of the **_**Ellington**_

"_Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light." _Helen Keller

_**Chapter 3: Voices from the Past**_

Crane drew a deep breath as he cracked open the door of Nelson's cabin. Although he knew it was the most likely place to find help, it seemed wrong to enter when the admiral wasn't there. It was cool and dark inside and, to Lee's eyes, neater than it should have been. Nelson's desk was cleared except for a large manila envelope in the center with "Lee" written on it in Harry's scrawling script. The captain swallowed hard. It was as if Harry hadn't expected to return but knew Crane would come, seeking.

He flicked the light on and sat on the edge of the desk, unable to allow himself to settle into Nelson's chair. He turned the envelope over several times, half-afraid of what he'd find inside. Finally he opened it, drawing out a handful of papers and a yellowed newspaper clipping dated July 1944.

The headline on the clipping read "The Miracle of the _Ellington_." Below it there was a photo of Harry in his dress uniform, a sober expression on his face. Crane smiled a little at the seriousness of youth. _Ensign Harriman Nelson, 18, the son of John Harriman Nelson and his wife, Elizabeth, of Boston, might be the luckiest young man in the Navy. Nelson, who served aboard the destroyer _Ellington_, was rescued last week after spending over twenty-four hours in the cold waters of the Atlantic. Ensign Nelson was disoriented when he was pulled to safety and was unable to explain how he had managed to survive on the open sea after falling out of a lifeboat. The doctor who treated him was amazed to find him in such good physical condition in spite of his ordeal._

Lee scanned the description of the deadly encounter between the destroyer and the U-boat, then read more carefully when Nelson was mentioned again: _The precocious young officer graduated from high school at age sixteen and attended the Naval Academy at Annapolis for two years before receiving his commission on his eighteenth birthday. Nelson, now back in fighting form, is enjoying a well-deserved leave in Boston with his family before returning to active duty next month. Although he is unable to offer an explanation for his good fortune, I think it's safe to say the luck of his Irish ancestors runs in Harriman Nelson's veins. I imagine we'll be hearing more from this miraculous young man!_

Crane sighed, knowing that by July 1944 John and Elizabeth Nelson didn't have much longer to live. Ensign Nelson, hopefully now resting comfortably in sickbay, couldn't know that, though. He wished his friend didn't have to lurch from one horrible event in his life to the next and profoundly hoped Harry savored every moment he had with his family.

Lee carefully laid the clipping aside and turned to the admiral's letter. Holding it as if it were a precious document, he began to read: _Dear Lee, if you've found this, I can only assume a younger version of myself is aboard _Seaview_ and I'm no longer with you. _Crane sucked in his breath, feeling the words like a punch in his gut. _I know you're upset and astounded by this bizarre turn of events. Believe me, I share your feelings._

_I've included in this envelope a newspaper story that might reassure you and the statement I made to Commander Wilshire of ONI after I was rescued. My statement was in a restricted file, but I was able to obtain a copy. Rank does have its privileges! _Lee smiled, almost able to hear Nelson's satisfied tone. _I've enclosed a transcript—you might find it helpful._

_It's important you understand this, Lee: I was completely truthful with Wilshire about my experiences. I wasn't trying to protect the future by lying about what happened on _Seaview_. At that time I remembered—and still do remember—very little. I think passing through the anomaly may have blurred my recollection, but I don't think you can rely on that alone. I imagine you will have to help me forget. I leave how to accomplish that to you, but I urge you not to let sympathy for me cloud your judgment. As you can see from the newspaper article, whatever you did caused me no lasting harm._

_For many years I put the _Ellington_ and the time I was missing at sea out of my mind. When we were given the mission to return to this area and investigate the anomaly, I began having dreams about being a young man walking the passageways of _Seaview_, afraid of being seen. Just when I got to the door of the circuit room, I'd wake up. I also dreamed I was lying on the FS-1, looking up at _Seaview_ towering above me. Instead of feeling proud, I was filled with misgivings. After several nights of this, I became convinced there was a chance, at least, these dreams were real memories I'd pushed to the back of my mind._ Lee shook his head, thinking how disturbed Nelson must have been by the realization. He wished the admiral had confided in him.

_I found a psychiatrist who specializes in hypnotic therapy. With his help, I was able to remember more while I was awake. I remembered seeing Kurt and being afraid I was a prisoner on a U-boat. I also remembered Kowalski particularly—he was urging me to be brave. I wish I knew why! It's so frustrating to have only bits and pieces of my memories!_

_One thing I know for certain: it's imperative you put me back in the ocean, just as you found me, in twenty-four hours. The anomaly should occur again and transport me back to 1944. If that happens, there's a chance I'll return to you as I am now. However, it's possible I may not._ _I debated whether to accept this mission, but I don't dare change the past even to save my own life. I'm certain I was on _Seaview_, and your intervention was the only thing that allowed me to survive after I fell into the sea. If I have to die, I'd rather it be now, when I've enjoyed a rich life._

_I prefer to be an optimist, though, so I won't say goodbye. Take care of yourself and the crew, look after _Seaview_, and don't be swayed from your duty. I'll see you tomorrow—Harry._

Crane felt a sob force its way up his throat and he crumpled the letter in his fist, holding it close to his heart. He stayed that way for a while, weeping alone in the silent cabin, then smoothed the letter out and placed it in his pocket.

Listlessly, he began flipping through the transcript of Harry's interview:

_Cmdr. Wilshire: Ensign Nelson, do you swear to tell the complete truth in this statement for the Office of Naval Intelligence?_

_Nelson: I do._

_Cmdr. Wilshire: Do you still claim you were a prisoner on a submarine on July 11, 1944?_

_Nelson: I'm not certain. I think I was held on a submarine._

_Cmdr. Wilshire: Who was holding you prisoner?_

_Nelson: I believe they were Americans, sir. I'm not sure. There may have been a German, as well._

_Cmdr. Wilshire: You don't seem very sure of anything, ensign. Did you hit your head against the lifeboat?_

_Nelson: No._

_Cmdr. Wilshire: What did your captors do? Did they ask you questions? _

_Nelson: I don't think so, sir._

_Cmdr. Wilshire: Why not?_

_Nelson: I don't know. Maybe they assumed I wouldn't know anything of interest._

_Cmdr. Wilshire: Did you tell them we'd asked you to try to obtain Enigma code books, since those from the U-505 have proved so helpful?_

_Nelson: No, sir. They didn't mention Enigma, as far as I remember._

_Cmdr. Wilshire: As far as you remember?_

_Nelson: Yes. I wish I could give a better answer._

_Cmdr. Wilshire: I wish you could, too._

_Nelson: I believe they were Americans, sir._

_Cmdr. Wilshire: So you've said. Were you drugged?_

_Nelson: I don't remember._

_Cmdr. Wilshire: You're aware no trace of drugs was found in your system when you were examined?_

_Nelson: Yes, sir._

_Cmdr. Wilshire: What would you say if I told you there was no U-boat or American submarine activity in the area during the time you were adrift?_

_(Note that Ensign Nelson remained silent.)_

_Cmdr. Wilshire: Answer the question, ensign._

_Nelson: I can't answer it, sir._

_Cmdr. Wilshire: Is it possible you were delirious and imagined this encounter?_

_Nelson: I don't think I imagined it._

_Cmdr. Wilshire: But is it possible you did?_

_Nelson: Yes, sir. Perhaps it's possible._

_Cmdr. Wilshire: You did the right thing to report this, but I think your mind has played a trick on you. The _Ellington_ was hell, son— you can be excused for some confusion in the aftermath. There's nothing to be gained from investigating further, though. I'm sorry, but there's simply no evidence to support your claims._

_Nelson: I understand, sir. I just thought it was my duty…_

_Cmdr. Wilshire: It is always your duty to report, Nelson. Take a couple of weeks at home to rest. When your next assignment comes through, I'll be back in contact._

Crane stared at the document, rolling its contents over in his mind. He knew Nelson had worked for ONI in his younger days, but he felt a surge of resentment that they'd practically plucked his friend out of the cradle. Still, he supposed he shouldn't be surprised. The admiral was just the kind of young man ONI's recruiters would seek out.

He was profoundly grateful Harry had given him so many clues to the puzzle. Even though he'd had no choice, Lee hated the way he'd had to treat his young guest. Somehow, having the admiral's permission and forgiveness meant a lot. It was clear Harry's memory of the _Seaview_ was impaired, and to Lee that could only mean one thing: As much as Jamie would protest, they would have to keep Nelson drugged with a sedative that would be out of his system before the Navy doctors could run any blood tests.

He re-read Harry's letter, wondering about the variety of memories he recounted. Some of the events had already taken place but some hadn't occurred yet. Crane frowned when the admiral wrote that he remembered Kowalski particularly and the crewman had urged him to be brave. Lee had specifically ordered Pat and Ski to keep their mouths shut. He wondered what the two of them had been up to while he was busy in Harry's cabin.

Shaking his head with regret, Crane made for the door, planning to go to sickbay and give Jamie his unwanted orders. He'd only taken a few steps when _Seaview_ tilted suddenly, sending him to the floor. Warning sirens sounded throughout the boat.

Lee pulled himself up and grabbed the intercom before the boat lurched in the other direction. "Crane to control room! What's going on?"

"It's the anomaly again." Chip's voice was steady, but Crane could hear the strain in it. "I think you'd better get up here right away. It's worse this time and I'm getting reports of leaks across the lower level."

"Can you maneuver? Get us out of here?"

"Negative. The reactor's offline and there are shorts in the circuitry."

"I'm on my way!" All thoughts of Ensign Nelson fled from Lee's mind as he raced for the control room. _Seaview_ was in trouble and that trumped all other concerns.


	4. Older and Wiser

**The Miracle of the **_**Ellington**_

"_Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light." _Helen Keller

_**Chapter 4: Older and Wiser**_

The lights in sickbay went out suddenly as _Seaview_ rolled disturbingly to port. Patterson stumbled against Ski before falling to the deck, bumping his head against the examination table. Kowalski could hear him groaning but couldn't tell where he was. He knelt down and felt for his friend in the darkness. "Hey," he said urgently, "hey, are you OK?"

Patterson's only answer was another groan.

"Doc!" Kowalski said. "Are you there? He's hurt."

"I'm here." Across the cabin, Jamieson sounded shaken. "Coming!"

There were quiet, tentative movements in the darkness, then the doctor was beside him.

"It's taking a long time for the emergency lights to come on," Ski grumbled. "Ensign! Are you all right, sir?"

There was no answer.

"This is all we need," Jamieson said. "If he's injured again…"

Another shudder shook the boat and Kowalski felt an influx of air as the cabin door swung open. It only took him a moment to register what had happened, but that was one moment too long. He lunged belatedly, hands closing on air. "Damn," he swore. "Come back here!" His voice echoed in the dark passageway. There was no answer. He hadn't expected one.

X X X

Harry felt his way through the blackness, feeling strangely steady. He hoped he hadn't escaped the _Ellington_ only to die on a submarine, but he didn't have time to be afraid. He wouldn't have another chance like the one he'd been given and he wasn't about to waste it.

Barefoot and in pajamas, it seemed unlikely he'd succeed in getting very far, but perhaps the chaos on the boat would give him a chance to satisfy his curiosity. At the very least, he might discover if the men holding him were really Americans. Perhaps he could gather some useful intelligence. If he was very lucky, he might find a place to hide until the submarine surfaced again and he could find a way off.

He remembered the way back to the control room, but it would be full of people and doubtless the captain would be there. Nelson preferred not to encounter him—he had a feeling this transgression would push the man's patience too far. Instead, he went the other way down the passage, counting his steps. He was grateful when the emergency lights came on, suffusing everything in a ruby glow. His hands, thick and unwieldy with bandages, trailed the walls and he looked over his shoulder nervously. The last thing he needed was for the big crewman to find him. He doubted the man would forgive him for slipping away right under his nose.

Footsteps echoed in the empty passageway ahead of him and Nelson looked around anxiously for a place to hide. He ducked into the nearest cabin and pressed himself against the cool metal wall as three crewmen hurried past at a jog. He didn't relax and examine his surroundings until they disappeared around a turn in the corridor. Then he wiped his face on his arm and advanced into the room, awed by what he saw.

There were rows and rows of cabinets containing circuitry, each taller than a man and bristling with multicolored wires. Nelson forgot his weariness as he approached, holding his breath in excitement. He ran his damaged hands lightly over the nearest cabinet, wishing he could feel the components beneath his fingers. What systems did they control? How were they organized? He'd never seen such complicated circuitry, never even imagined it.

As he stood admiring this display of technology another shudder rocked _Seaview_. He fell to the deck, banging his knee hard against it. Warning sirens sounded again and he pushed himself up quickly, feeling his pulse soar. The circuitry in the nearest cabinet was burning. Nelson could smell ozone and for a moment was paralyzed by the memory of the _Ellington_, of searing heat as he and McMann tried to clear away flaming debris to reach Captain Harris. Then he shook his head once, hard, and flung himself towards the fire extinguisher. It was difficult to pull the pin but he managed it, dampening the flames with cooling foam.

Drained, Nelson stood staring at the damage as smoke swirled around him. He didn't even start as the door opened and the large crewman who'd held him prisoner in sickbay entered. The man hurried to the cabinet, hardly sparing him a glance. "Damn," he muttered. "Air purification's off now, too. That's why the smoke hasn't cleared. We need the blowers back." He pulled some tools from the nearest locker, muttering under his breath.

Nelson watched him work, uncertain what to do. Perhaps he could slip out while the man was occupied or perhaps… he looked down at the fire extinguisher in his hand. It wouldn't take much strength or skill to knock a man out with it.

At that moment Kowalski looked up, frowning. Nelson had the uncomfortable feeling the man could read his thoughts. "Put that down," he said, "and give me a hand. Even with all those bandages, you can still hold a flashlight." When Harry hesitated, he said, "Come on, will ya? I don't know how much time you have to waste when there's trouble on a surface ship, but on a submarine every minute counts. Get over here!"

Nelson took the proffered light and shone it over Kowalski's shoulder into the recesses of the cabinet, illuminating the ends of charred wires. The crewman shook his head. "What a mess! Repairing this stuff isn't my specialty. I don't even know which wires control air purification! Usually when there's a problem in here the Skipper fixes it, or the…" he broke off, glancing back at Nelson. "Say, do you know much about wiring, sir?"

"Some."

"What color wires would you use for air purification?"

Harry shook his head. "The engineer who designed this could have chosen any color."

"Just tell me what you'd use," Ski said impatiently. "We're wasting time."

"Green, but I don't see…" Nelson broke off as Kowalski set to work reconnecting the wires he'd indicated. After a couple of minutes there was a low hum and a warm breeze brushed his cheek as the blowers kicked in.

Ski turned and grinned. "See! You're a pretty lucky guesser, sir. Care to try for ballast control? That's the next priority."

"This is ridiculous," Nelson said, but he couldn't help feeling a bit of pride in his success. "It's a dangerous game you're playing. If we get the wiring wrong…"

"We're already on the bottom," Ski said quietly. "It can't get much worse."

"Orange," Nelson said soberly. "Orange for ballast control."

"Will do. Hand me those pliers, will ya?" He glanced at Nelson's pale face as he took the tool. "Never been on the bottom before, I guess?" When Harry didn't answer, he smiled. "Sorry, sir, I forgot—no questions."

"Didn't your captain say you weren't to talk with me?"

"Aye, sir. He sure did." Kowalski handed the pliers back to him. "More light here."

"Doesn't it bother you to disobey a direct order?" Nelson leaned in, shining the light where he directed.

"Well," Ski said, "it's like this: If I was a dog and my master said 'Lie down,' I guess I'd do it. And if he said 'Sit up and beg,' I'd do that, too. But I'm not a dog, sir." He turned and his steady gaze held Nelson's. "I'm a man, and a man's got to think for himself sometimes." He turned back to his task. "When the Skipper gave me that order, he didn't count on you breaking out and me finding you here, did he?" He glanced over his shoulder and Nelson flushed. "He didn't count on us being on the bottom, either, or on me needing your help."

"I'm glad to help," Nelson said, surprised to find it was really true. He'd been suspicious of these men, eager to get away, but he found himself strangely at ease with this crewman. He felt at home in this room full of circuits and wondered if he'd like the rest of the boat just as much. He'd always been fascinated by submarines but hadn't had the chance to be on one before.

"Besides," Kowalski continued, "you look like you could use some friendly conversation." He glanced at Nelson again. "You're all beat up, kid — inside and out. You can stick to name, rank, and serial number if you'd like, but I can see that just by looking at you." When Nelson didn't reply, he continued, "Don't buy all the macho stuff they tell you when you join up. Give yourself time to grieve, sir. It's the only way to stay sane when the world's crazy."

"Officers can't be self-indulgent," Nelson said quietly. "We have to set an example."

"Sure you do," Kowalski agreed, "in front of the men. Pliers." He took them and turned back. "I don't think you have any trouble being tough on yourself or your men. Just don't be so good at convincing everybody you're invincible that you convince yourself."

"Do you always talk to officers this way?"

"Nah." Kowalski turned and looked at him seriously. "Only to the ones that need it."

Harry gave a little laugh, surprised to find it brought tears to his eyes. Ski noticed and smiled. "That's the way, sir," he said. "That's better."

"You're a very intelligent and original man."

"Don't sound so surprised. There are lots of smart men who've never been to Annapolis."

"I didn't mean…"

Kowalski waved his protest away. "I know you didn't. You're just awfully young and, if you'll pardon me, your experience is pretty limited. Here's what you do, sir: Find an older enlisted man, maybe a warrant officer, and talk with him every week about anything—the weather, or politics, or what he did before he was in service. Find out how he thinks and what matters to him." Kowalski gently squeezed his shoulder. "You do that, and I guarantee you'll be a better officer."

"I'll consider your advice, if I ever get the chance to use it."

"You will. We won't be on the bottom forever. The Skipper's brought us through worse than this."

"You admire him?"

Kowalski gave a snort. "Admire? That falls way short of it, sir."

"Even if you disobey his orders?"

"Even so." They both blinked as the main lights came on again. "Well, that's a good sign," Ski said. "Ready to try for ballast control?" He connected the last orange wire.

"Did we get it right?"

"Can't tell yet. I'll have to let the Skipper know to give it a try." Kowalski reached for the intercom just as the door opened.

"Let me know to give what a try?" Crane asked. Jamieson and two crewmen stood behind him. "Where has he been?" he demanded.

Harry shifted a little closer to the crewman as the captain glared at them, but Kowalski was unperturbed. "Just here with me, sir. He was helping me fix this mess. We got air purification and ballast control back online."

"It didn't occur to you to report and let me know where he was?"

"Well, he needed a break, sir, and I sure needed his help!"

Crane appeared to be only slightly mollified. "I'll talk to you about this later," he said. "Doc, let's do it."

As they stepped forward into the cabin Nelson noticed the hypodermic needle in the doctor's hand. He tried to keep his voice steady as he turned to Kowalski. "Are you going to let them have me?"

"I'm afraid so, sir."

"I should have hit you when I had the chance," he said bleakly.

"Nah, you shouldn't. It's not your style to sneak up on guys and bash them with fire extinguishers. What _is_ your style—if you don't mind me saying—is holding yourself up with courage and dignity when your back's against the wall."

"Is my back against the wall?" Nelson asked quietly.

"Yes, sir. You know it is."

"Well, then," Harry squared his shoulders, "I guess this is it." He met Crane's eyes as the captain advanced on him.

Lee stopped an arm's length away. His anger had evaporated the moment he'd seen the resignation in Nelson's eyes. He'd been so worried, so furious, when Harry had escaped from sickbay, although he couldn't really blame him. He probably would have done the same. He hated what he had to do now. "Ensign," he said softly, "we're going to give you a sedative, nothing more. You need to rest and I can't have you running loose around the boat."

"Is that really what you're giving me?" Nelson asked the doctor.

Jamieson nodded. "It is." He unfastened the buttons on Harry's pajama top and Kowalski felt a tremor run through the young man's body.

"Steady," Ski murmured. "Be brave, sir."

Nelson kept his eyes locked on Crane's and didn't flinch as the needle entered his arm. His last memory before the drug took effect was the captain gently grasping his shoulders. "Don't worry," Lee said quietly, "I won't let you fall—now or ever."


	5. The Wake

**The Miracle of the **_**Ellington**_

"_Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light." _Helen Keller

_**Chapter 5: The Wake**_

"We're killing him," Crane said flatly. "We can use whatever medical term makes us feel better, but that's what we're doing." He stretched his legs out on the floor of the galley and leaned back against the metal doors of the walk-in refrigeration unit. Even with insulation, he could feel the cold creeping uncomfortably up his spine.

"Have some coffee and relax, Lee," Jamieson said. "It's not like you to be melodramatic." The doctor sat cross-legged next to the captain. In any other situation, the group of grown men sprawled like children on the deck of the galley at 5:00 AM would have been comical, but the situation didn't lend itself to humor. "Or catch a couple of hours of sleep. You need to be sharp when the anomaly occurs again."

"I can't sleep."

"You could try," Schaffner said. "Dr. Jamieson and I will monitor Harry's vitals."

"He shouldn't be alone in there."

"He's fine," Jamieson said for what must have been the hundredth time.

"I suppose so." Lee closed his eyes, trying not to imagine Harry lying in the refrigerator, as still as death as his body temperature slowly fell lower and lower. "You're sure he isn't in pain?"

Jamieson shook his head. "He's too far under to feel a thing."

X X X

After the doctor administered the sedative in the circuit room, Crane carried Nelson back to sickbay. He'd left the young man in Jamieson's care while he returned to the problem of repairs and getting _Seaview_ in shape to face the anomaly again the next day. If it hadn't been for the necessity of returning Ensign Nelson to 1944, Crane would have taken the boat out of the area as soon as it was off the bottom and operational. He had no desire to subject the submarine or the crew to such violent upheavals again, but there was no question of leaving. With so little time to prepare the boat, all he could do was order the repair crews to slap on as many band-aids as possible. He'd simply have to hope _Seaview_ was sound enough to make it through the disruption one more time.

It was evening before Crane had time to check in with Jamieson again. He found the doctor picking at his dinner from a tray balanced on his knees while he watched over Harry. He motioned for Lee to join him but the captain declined. He never could eat when the admiral was in trouble. The fact that Ensign Nelson lay nearby resting peacefully didn't change that. Lee sat down on the deck next to Nelson's rack and placed his hand lightly on the young man's arm, feeling the need to establish some kind of rapport, however tenuous.

"That's one tired boy," Jamieson commented. "I think he would have passed out sooner or later even without the sedative."

"He's only eighteen," Lee said softly. "He's not a boy, though. Did you see how he looked at me when you gave him the injection? These days that expression makes the ratings cringe."

"You didn't mind his show of spirit," the doctor observed.

"No, I'd have been happy even if he'd punched me," Crane admitted.

"He might still get the chance," Jamieson said, "Lee, I can't keep him sedated forever. What's next?"

Wordlessly, Crane passed him the envelope containing the newspaper article and the transcript of Harry's debriefing after his rescue. He fished the admiral's letter out of his pocket and handed it over, too, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against his knees while the doctor digested this information.

"What are you going to do?" Jamieson asked.

"What he told me to: my duty," Crane said tonelessly. "Tomorrow morning I'm going to cast aside every bit of common sense I possess and put the admiral back in the sea, hoping to God a miracle occurs and he doesn't drown before he gets rescued. If I'm lucky, he'll get back to his own time. If I'm unlucky or make even the smallest miscalculation, I'll have murdered my best friend."

"You can't protect him," the doctor said quietly, "and he doesn't expect you to. The admiral walked into this with his eyes open."

"I know. That doesn't make it any easier, though."

"Lee," Jamieson ventured, "it's not enough just to put him back in the water, you know."

"What do you mean?"

"We have to make it seem plausible that Harry's been adrift in the North Atlantic for twenty-four hours. That's what his rescuers believed. That's one reason they discounted his story about being on a submarine." Jamieson set the tray aside and pushed himself to his feet. He disappeared into his office and Crane heard him searching through his bookshelves. In a moment he returned with a slim volume. "What's the surface water temperature?"

Crane flicked on the intercom. "Crane to control room."

"Morton here."

"I need a reading on surface water temperature, Chip."

"I'll have to take her up."

"Acknowledged." They waited in silence for several moments, Crane's expression growing ever more grim as he realized what the doctor was contemplating.

"Control room to Captain Crane."

"Go ahead."

"Surface water temperature is 68 degrees Fahrenheit."

"Thanks, Chip." Lee cast a questioning look at the doctor.

Jamieson consulted the charts in his book. "It would have been similar in July 1944. It's certainly conceivable a fit young man like Harry could survive for a day in water that chilly. It's not possible, however, that his body temperature would be normal. The game will be up the minute they stick a thermometer in his mouth unless we bring it down."

"What's your recommendation?"

"Unconsciousness occurs when the body's temperature drops below 86 degrees Fahrenheit. We definitely don't want Harry's to be so dangerously low. The newspaper article says he was disoriented when he was pulled out of the water, not unconscious." The doctor frowned, considering. "We need him to start shaking off the sedative by the time we put him in the ocean so that he's at least aware enough to hold his head up and keep his face out of the water. That will give him the best chance for survival." Jamieson closed his book decisively. "With your permission, I'll bring his temperature down to about 92-94 degrees Fahrenheit. Amnesia and disorientation set in around 94 degrees. That sounds right, since we know Harry's memory of his time on _Seaview_ was compromised."

"Can you do it without shocking his system? The admiral's already been though a lot and you know how exhausted he is."

"I'll take that into account."

"See that you do," Crane said. His hand curled around Nelson's bandaged one. "We can't afford for anything to go wrong."

X X X

After a bit of thought, the doctor suggested putting Nelson in one of the walk-in refrigerators in _Seaview_'s galley. They cleared the unit of food and raised the temperature almost to ambient levels. Once the admiral was inside, they would slowly begin dropping the temperature again, giving his body time to adjust to each incremental change.

Crane and Jamieson carefully dressed the unconscious young man in his uniform once more and removed the gauze that protected his burned skin. For the captain, the task had an almost surreal quality. Try as he might, he couldn't shake the feeling he was preparing the admiral's body for burial. He wished Harry would open his eyes and look at him one more time, even as he dreaded the thought he might if the sedative wore off too soon. This young man wouldn't understand the necessity of the captain's choices, wouldn't be able to fathom why he was so cruel. It was better that he remain the way he was: a lifeless doll, a shell with the vibrant pearl of Harry's spirit hidden deep inside.

They placed him in the refrigerator with a tiny thermometer in his ear and an EKG monitoring his heart. Then they left him and sank down, drained, on the deck of the galley, keeping vigil.

It was there that Dr. Schaffner found them in the early hours of the morning. He, too, had passed a sleepless night. It wasn't worry for Nelson, though, that had prevented him from resting. He'd been analyzing the data from the two occurrences of the anomaly, desperate to find some answers before the disturbance struck again.

"Captain," he said, sitting down beside Crane, who acknowledged him with a nod, "I've found something very interesting. The readings from the two times we've passed through the anomaly are similar, but differ in one important respect." He cleared his throat, his voice taking on a professorial tone as Lee looked at him questioningly. "Do you see this spike here?" He handed Crane a readout from _Seaview_'s computer. "This is a measurement of electromagnetic activity around the boat before, during, and just after the anomaly occurred. Now observe, please, the profiles from the first and second times we encountered the anomaly."

"There's a spike in electromagnetic activity the first time, but not during the second," Crane said.

"Precisely. And it was during the first encounter that Harry traveled through time. The second time the anomaly occurred the storm it spawned was just as strong, but there was no electromagnetic spike."

"And no time travel."

"_Ja_, you understand. Good! So it is not identical each time. I think this is why the anomaly has caused so many ships to sink, but only once has caused a breach in time."

"That we know of."

"Yes, captain, as you say—that we know of." Schaffner looked uncomfortable. "It is possible others have experienced the same shift as Harry and disappeared from their own times into different pasts or futures."

"That's not comforting," Jamieson observed.

"No, it's not, and," Schaffner continued, "I'm not sure there's a way to counter the electromagnetic spike, since we can't predict when it will occur again. We know it will happen at 10:00 today, but it may not reappear for weeks, months, or years!"

"We'll have to put out the warning for ships to avoid this area at all costs," Crane said. "I thought the danger was unusually rough seas, but this is far more perilous."

"Yes, but we can't allow ourselves to be frightened into leaving with the job undone," Schaffner said. "Harry would never approve." He frowned, thinking hard. "Captain, do you have monitoring buoys we could attach to the bottom with strong cables? Then we can continue to retrieve data during future occurrences of the phenomenon. When enough is collected, we should be able to get a picture of what is happening and determine if there is a predictable pattern."

"_Seaview_ has three buoys, but none are programmed specifically to measure electromagnetic activity. It's possible we could use the FS-1 to place them if you have enough time to make the necessary modifications to their programming."

Schaffner got to his feet with surprising speed for a man his age. "As you Americans say, 'I'm on it!'" He glanced again at the door of the refrigeration unit. "I can take Harry out and put him on the surface when I place the buoys, if you'd like."

"It'll be dangerous to be in the FS-1 when the anomaly hits again," Crane said quietly.

"Yes, but perhaps our best chance of getting Harry back is if the FS-1 is as close as possible to its coordinates when he disappeared from it."

"There's logic in that, Lee," Jamieson said. "I'll go with him, if you'll give permission, and monitor Harry's vitals until the last moment."

"Are you sure? You two might get pulled through to another time, or the flying sub might be shaken apart."

"I'm willing to take the chance," Jamieson said, his features calm.

"I'm not concerned, either," Schaffner said. "I should have died here more than thirty years ago. Every day of my life is borrowed time. Besides," he flashed a smile, "after you've served on a U-boat with Harry hunting you, you're not afraid of much!"


	6. Third Time Pays for All

**The Miracle of the **_**Ellington**_

"_Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light." _Helen Keller

_**Chapter 6: Third Time Pays for All**_

"Well, that's it." Schaffner placed the last buoy and secured it with the FS-1's remote arm. "How much time do we have left?"

"Six minutes," Jamieson said. Beside him, Nelson shifted restlessly and moaned.

"It was hard on your captain to allow us do this without him."

"It would have been harder if he'd come," Jamieson grunted. "Besides the fact that his place is on _Seaview_ when the anomaly hits again, I wanted to spare him having to put Harry back in the sea."

"You think he wouldn't have been strong enough to follow through?"

"I don't know." Nelson's hand twitched feebly, angry burns livid against the adjacent undamaged skin. The doctor's jaw tightened as he imagined salt water hitting them again. "I didn't want to find out."

"Will you stay firm?" Schaffner angled the flying sub upwards, speeding towards the surface.

"Yes. You?"

"_Ja_, I can. We care for Harry, but with Captain Crane I think it is something different."

"Lee's father died when he was very young. The admiral is more than a friend and a commanding officer to him."

Schaffner nodded, easing the craft into a gentler incline as they reached the surface. The ocean was smooth and quiet. It was hard to imagine it would soon be the stage for a maelstrom.

"There really is no warning," Jamieson murmured.

"No, there's not. Each time the anomaly has occurred, it's been a horrible surprise. I won't let it catch us unprepared this time, though." Schaffner allowed the FS-1 to idle as he turned to the doctor. "We've got to wake him up," he said, contemplating the task with distaste, "unless we want him to drown."

"Let's get him outside first. Maybe the fresh air will rouse him." Jamieson sounded more hopeful than he looked.

Together they carried the unconscious young man out onto the FS-1, careful of the slick metal beneath their feet. It seemed to Schaffner they were enacting a grotesque parody of the previous day's rescue. The German gritted his teeth, reminding himself they were still helping the admiral, despite all appearances to the contrary. "How much time left?"

"Three minutes."

"We mustn't wait longer." Steeling himself, Schaffner slapped Harry's face half-heartedly. "Wake up, ensign!"

Harry shook his head weakly, eyes still closed. Schaffner struck again, harder. "Come now! Is this all you have?"

For Nelson, returning to consciousness was like fighting his way out of a feather bed. A smothering softness strove to pull him back into quiet oblivion. He wanted to stay in that blessedly comfortable place but someone was beating on the edge of his awareness, berating him. He had no idea where he was or why anyone should want to abuse him. Images from the past day swirled in his mind but nothing made any sense. He began shivering uncontrollably as a horrible chill gripped his body, frightening and unnatural.

Alarmed, Harry forced his eyes open but they wouldn't focus. His cheeks stung and he squinted against the sunlight reflecting off the surface of the water. Schaffner's hand, a dark shadow against the brightness of the morning, snapped his head to the side. He tried to speak but no words would form.

"That will have to do," Schaffner said. "We're out of time." Holding the front of Nelson's life jacket in his fists, he lowered the young man into the ocean.

The sudden, searing pain of salt water invading his burns brought Harry around faster than any number of blows. He gasped, eyes wide, as he suddenly realized where he was. "No!" His hands were bathed in fire but he grabbed Schaffner's arm and held on tightly. "No, please!" He forced the words past chattering teeth.

Steeling himself, Schaffner tried to peel Harry's hands away. The young man's grip was weak but he hung on with tenacity born of desperation. Schaffner heard Nelson's breath hitch and allowed himself one glance at Harry's bewildered, pain-filled face. The German looked away quickly and, with a fierceness that made Harry cry out in pain, yanked his arm free and flung his friend backwards into the ocean. He turned to the doctor. "Get below!"

The water around the FS-1 began to churn, dragging Harry away from the craft. Jamieson watched fearfully as he tried to right himself and swim back to them. Schaffner pulled the doctor to face him, fingers digging deep into his arm. "I said 'Get below'," he snarled. "There's nothing else we can do."

He ducked into the flying sub and the engine sprang to life a moment later. Reluctantly, Jamieson followed him inside. Already the small craft was starting to pitch and buck. As he strapped himself into the co-pilot's seat, the doctor tried to forget his last view of Harry: a lone, forlorn figure fighting to keep his head above the rising swells.

X X X

The anomaly stuck _Seaview_ with ferocious power but this time Crane was prepared. The crew was braced for impact, the men in the control room strapped into their seats. Even so, lights flickered and warning sirens sounded throughout the boat as the violence of the disturbance tested systems already strained to the breaking point.

As concerned as he was for _Seaview_, Lee's attention was focused on the fragile flying sub until he lost visual and sonar contact. He lurched to the radio shack, holding onto Sparks to keep from being thrown to the deck. "Crane to FS-1!" His voice sounded harshly in his ears. "Crane to FS-1! Come in, FS-1!"

_Seaview_ shuddered and he gripped Sparks tightly enough to make the radio operator wince. Just when Lee thought the boat would surely snap in two like a brittle twig, the ocean suddenly became calm again. In the glow of the emergency lights he could see relieved expressions breaking across the faces of the crew. He wasn't able to share the feeling. "_Seaview_ to FS-1, please respond. Crane to FS-1!"

"FS-1 to _Seaview_." Jamieson's voice was hollow, haunted. "We're still here, Skipper."

"Is the admiral with you? Did he…?" Lee found himself unable to finish the question.

"No." The doctor's voice was flat. "He didn't reappear. Lee, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Crane's throat was too dry to speak. He could feel the eyes of the crew on him. _Not now_, he told himself. _Not here_.

"Skipper!"

_Not now, Ski. Dear God, whatever it is, not now…_

"Skipper! Sonar's got something on the surface!"

"What?" Crane spun on him, eyes wide.

"Sonar's picking up something on the surface. It could be a body, sir!" Lee could hear the excitement in the crewman's voice.

"Crane to FS-1! Check the surface, Jamie! We're getting a reading that might be the admiral."

Inside the flying sub the doctor and Schaffner exchanged glances of mixed hope and dread, unsure what they'd find when they investigated. As soon as Schaffner surfaced, Jamieson sprang towards the hatch. Clambering out with the German on his heels, he almost fainted with relief at the sight of Harry, _their_ Harry, treading water just where they had left Ensign Nelson minutes before.

As soon as the admiral saw them he began swimming in their direction. They couldn't pull him in fast enough, holding his shoulders and murmuring words of encouragement as he coughed up half of the Atlantic. Jamie looked down at Harry's strong hand gripping his own, the skin smooth and undamaged, and again felt relief wash over him like a tidal wave.

"What… the hell?" Nelson's voice was harsh. He coughed again, turning his face towards his shoulder. He squinted at the doctor, as if registering his presence for the first time. "How did you get on the flying sub with us?" As they gazed at him in wonder, Nelson's expression slowly changed. "It happened, didn't it? Just now?"

"Yes." Schaffner gently pressed him down on his back as Jamie set to work checking his pulse. "We just put a young ensign back in the water. I just…" he broke off as Nelson squeezed his hand.

"I don't remember."

"That is for the best."

"One minute I was working on the electrical panel in the flying sub and the next minute I was in the middle of the ocean." Nelson ran his hand over his face. The doctor brought out a stethoscope and pressed it against his chest.

"For us a full day elapsed," Schaffner said thoughtfully. "You had no sense of the passage of time?"

"No." The FS-1 rocked as _Seaview_ surfaced nearby, sending gentle waves against the hull of the small craft. Nelson's fond gaze fell on the enormous submarine. "That's a beautiful sight. I remember so little, but I do recall lying like this before, long ago, in _Seaview's_ shadow."

"We'll tell you everything that happened," Schaffner promised, "so you don't have to wonder any more."

"I just hope I didn't make a fool of myself."

Jamieson shook his head, taking the stethoscope out of his ears. "No, you were a bit of a handful, but you were also an impressive young man."

Nelson snorted. "I think you're being kind." With the doctor's help, he pulled himself to a sitting position. "What's the verdict, Jamie?"

"There might be a little seawater in your lungs. I'll give you an antibiotic when we're back on the boat. Considering you went through the anomaly without a life jacket, it's a miracle you survived. But," he smiled, "you specialize in miracles, don't you, Harry?"

Nelson was about to answer when he saw Crane emerge on _Seaview's_ sail. At that point, he lost track of what the doctor was saying.

X X X

"This is excellent wine, Kurt!" Nelson sat back in his chair and lifted his glass to his friend.

"I'm glad you're here to drink it with me," Schaffner said. Beside him, Crane stared into his glass and nodded his silent agreement. The three of them and Jamieson were relaxing after dinner in the observation nose. "You're really not upset to learn I was on that U-boat so long ago?"

"We were enemies for a day," Nelson said, catching and holding the German's gaze, "and we've been friends for a decade. Which do you think is more important?"

"_Ja_, you make a good point." He leaned over and refilled Crane's glass. "You must forgive Harry," he said to the captain. "_All's well that ends well_."

"You could have told me," Lee said quietly. "You could have filled me in on your suspicions before we ever started this mission. If the situation had been reversed, I would have told you."

"Would you?" Nelson sighed and took a sip of wine. "I didn't know anything for certain. I was afraid to tell anyone I thought I'd traveled through time long ago, because making even the slightest deviation from our normal routine could have changed everything." He shook his head. "It was better that you not know until it happened, but I'm sorry, Lee. If it helps for me to say so, I am sorry for what I put you and the crew through. I know you risked your lives to get me back to 1944."

Lee smiled at him wanly. The admiral and his younger self had many things in common, one of which was that Lee couldn't stay angry with either of them for long. "All right," he conceded. "I guess I'm really upset with myself, anyway. Aren't you bothered by the things we did to you?"

Nelson's expression was placid. "No." He laid his hand on the captain's arm. "Look, Lee, for you this is all fresh and upsetting, but for me we're discussing events that took place more than thirty years ago. It's ancient history. Back then I didn't remember anything clearly enough to be traumatized and even if I had, I would have gotten over it long ago." He leaned forward and looked at Crane seriously. "Let it go. That's an order." Nelson patted Crane's arm once, with an air of finality.

"All right, sir." The captain drew a deep breath. "I never disobey orders."

"Hah!" Nelson gave a snort of laughter. "You and Kowalski are cut from the same cloth. What did you do with him, by the way? I feel I'm responsible for getting him in trouble."

"You're not. He made his own choices." Lee took a sip of wine. He hadn't noticed before how good it was. "I've assigned him an extra work detail—nothing too harsh. I've given him three of the newest crewmen to mentor. He has to report to Sharkey weekly on their progress."

"I have a feeling he'll be good at that," Nelson said. "I should ask him what we talked about when we were in the circuit room together. Although," he said thoughtfully, "I have the feeling I should fortify myself with another glass of wine first!"

Smiling, Crane passed him the bottle.

X X X

_Thanks for your patience waiting for this final chapter. Hope you enjoyed the story!_


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